


Excitations

by leere



Series: Shit I Write On Tumblr [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: ...so Pete just says “I’ll be there in an hour” and hangs up because hell, this interviewer guy wouldn’t want to see this world famous Wentz popping a boner in the middle of his interview</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excitations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr on 10/9/15.  
> Title derived from Good Vibrations from The Beach Boys, because duh. Also fits in with this one word title theme so.  
> Anonymous asked: What if Pete was doing a recorded interview and suddenly Patrick just rang him because Pete didn't tell him about the interview. And Pete'd be like "hey baby what's up?" and Patrick would just moan into the phone cause he had this plan of making Pete want to come home faster if he knew that Patrick was fucking himself with a vibrator. And he's just saying dirty shit while Pete just looks at the interviewer for a second like "oh my god" and he tries to interrupt Patrick but (tbc fuck)  
> (2/2) and he’s totally getting hard, he doesn’t know what to do. His face is all heated up so Pete just says “I’ll be there in an hour” and hangs up because hell, this interviewer guy wouldn’t want to see this world famous Wentz popping a boner in the middle of his interview  
> 

“So the writing process has gotten easier over the years?” one of the interviewers asks, crossing her legs neatly and folding her hands in her lap. She tilts her head to the side, looking like she’s genuinely interested in his response, and Pete’s grateful that at least one of them actually cares about what’s going on. The other interviewer, the guy, has his chin rested on his fist, watching Pete closely with narrowed eyes like he despises him. He’s hardly talked the entire interview. Pete feels how the guy looks. He’d much rather be at home right now. He misses his house, his dog, his bed, the boyfriend that’s probably asleep in it right now - the one who’s not with him for this interview.

“Definitely,” Pete says, even though his mind’s not on the writing process at all. He spouts some lame shit about how everything’s gotten easier the longer they’ve been at it, but his mind is on Patrick, the image of him sleeping, with his blanket-hogging little body that’s probably wrapped up in the sheets and his cute little nose that scrunches up while he dreams and the soft huff of his breath against Pete’s skin when they lay together. Pete wonders if he’s asleep right now. It’s only nine in the morning, so he probably is. Patrick hates mornings; if something woke him from his sleep - which is unlikely, he sleeps like the dead - he’s probably at the table, coffee cup in one hand and cell phone in the other, yawning as he scrolls through his Twitter feed and scowling because it’s too early for him.

The interviewer lady is nodding along to Pete’s story, and when his brain runs out of bullshit to spew, she says, “Interesting. And you said Patrick’s gotten a lot less controlling in the studio? Elaborate on that some, please. With how mild-mannered he is, it’s hard to believe he’s bossy at times!”

Pete shrugs. “Patrick’s Patrick, you know? He’ll always be bossy and I’ll always love him for it. It’s funny, we were talking about that the other day-” Just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees the picture he’s got set as Patrick’s contact photo. He had it set to a picture of Patrick’s ass in his tightest jeans for a while, but now it’s a selfie the two of them took in England a while back - he’s blowing a kiss to the camera, and Pete’s cropped himself out but he knows he was looking at him fondly in the original shot. He glances up at the interviewers. “Here he is now. Mind if I get it?”

“No, no, of course not, go ahead!”

Pete swipes the screen and puts to the phone to his ear. “Hey, babe, what’s up?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears Patrick’s unmistakable moan on the other line. He hears a faint buzzing, hears Patrick panting, thinks he can hear the bed squeaking.

“Woke up this morning and I was really, really fucking horny,” Patrick starts, his voice a little choked, like he’s forcing his words out, and Pete’s eyes widen. “Rolled over to kiss my boyfriend, maybe wake him up with my mouth on his dick, maybe sit on it before he was even fully awake, but what did I find? Nothing, fucking nothing. Just a note on the counter, a note that said, ‘Went to do some press, see you soon’.” The buzzing stops, and Patrick moans into the phone again. Pete glances up at the interviewers, swallowing hard, and they’re frowning.

“Everything okay, Mr. Wentz?” the lady asks, her perfect brows pulled together.

He nods and listens to Patrick, who’s breathing hard into the phone, still spouting filth. “So I couldn’t fuck you, but I was still gagging for it. Was trying to watch Jeopardy, but all I could think of was you, your hands on me, your mouth against mine, your dick in me, so I had resort to fucking myself with this bad boy.” Patrick’s voice pitches up a bit, and he sounds a little bit pouty, a little like he’s trying to sound childish (which shouldn’t be hot, Pete’s over his daddy kink phase, goddamnit) when he says, “Mr. Vibrator here is a lot bigger than you, Pete. Fills me up more than you do. Makes me come harder, too. You might just have to come home and fuck me so hard that I forget all about Mr. Vibrator.”

“Um,” Pete says, chewing on his lip, “Patrick, I’m kind of in the middle of an interview.”

“Oh?” Patrick says, and the buzzing starts up again, and Pete’s dick twitches in his skinny jeans when Patrick groans. “So they’re watching you as you talk to me? Are you getting hard? I love that I can do that to you so easily. Is your dick hard right now? Can the interviewer see it, do they know you’re listening to me fuck myself right now? Fuck, are you on speaker? Can they hear me?”

“Patrick,” Pete says sharply.

“It’s so big, Pete,” Patrick gasps, breathless, and Pete shifts in his chair and avoids the interviewer’s questioning eyes. “So fucking big, stretching me so fucking wide, it feels so good - fuck, and I used too much lube, I’m dripping all over the bed. I’m a dripping slut already, Pete, but this thing’s not you. Want you to come home and fuck me, fill me up, make me drip for hours-”

“I’ll be home in an hour,” Pete says quickly, and then he hangs up before he can think better of it.

“Um,” the interviewer lady says hesitantly. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Pete says, staring at a potted plant that’s set beside the couch. He’s scared to look at her face. 

“Everything’s fine.”

“You should consider turning your phone volume down,” the guy says, speaking for the first time, his voice a little rough. He’s got a little bulge, too, Pete notices when he looks up. He looks into the guy’s eyes, and he smirks at Pete before Iooking to his partner. “I think that’s a wrap, we got enough information. Get home to your boyfriend,” he tells Pete.

Pete thanks both of them and shakes hands, a little weirded out when they guy doesn’t let his hand go. Then he’s leaving, quickly, going to the parking lot and looking around for his car, anxious to get home.

He calls Patrick while he’s driving. Before Patrick can even talk, he says, “You little asshole, they fucking heard everything! You know how embarassing that was?”

Patrick laughs into the phone. “You’re coming home now, right?”

“Yes, I am, and when I get there, I’m fucking your goddamn brains out! And then when that’s over, I’m calling those people and apologizing for your fucking inappropriate behavior!”

Patrick laughs again. He doesn’t sound breathy, and Pete can’t hear buzzing; he wonders if he’s put his toy away, but then Patrick’s saying, “Are you gonna punish me?” and Pete forgets all about sex toys and decides that, fuck yes, when he gets home he’s putting Patrick across his lap and spanking him until he’s bruised, and then he’s gonna fuck him into next week, fuck yeah.

“I think I will,” he tells Patrick, barely hitting the brakes as he comes to a red light. Fucking red lights; he needs to get home and fuck his horny ass boyfriend right fucking now.


End file.
